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Tuesday Fluff: Eff It

Fluff has been moved up to Tuesday because chances of any of us posting anything substantial today (or, uh, this week) are incredibly slim.

So, I started following Michael Ian Black on Twitter after I heard about his Twitter war with LeVar Burton, via Sarah Haskins on Twitter. (Lest you think that implies I was fighting for the Black side, I also started following Burton, thereby canceling out my show of support.) Since the war ended, I’ve been weighing whether his amusing one-liners are worth continuing to follow him, given that A) I’m already following 60-odd other people who supply me with sufficient amusing one-liners, and B) he occasionally makes me stabby. (Psst, you’ve failed to consider the very real possibility that the joke wasn’t funny because among other things, cheap date rape analogies = comedy turd.)

But today, I’m happy to have hung in there, because I see he’s created the Fuck It List. It’s the opposite of a Bucket List — things you feel absolutely no need to do before you die. Lots of people are Tweeting their own mini-Fuck It Lists, and I was delighted to see at least a few that included losing weight and “getting ready for bathing suit season.”

In fewer than 140 characters, mine would go something like this: Lose the last 10 80 lbs.; get Ph.D.; have more than 1 kid*; become categorically “outdoorsy”; write decent poetry; look good in capri pants.

(Yes, those were all things I once fervently desired. The list would probably be much funnier if I included stuff I never really cared about.)

Shapelings, tell us what’s on your Fuck It List — Twitter-style if you like, or feel free to go on at length.

*The linked post was written by a dear friend of mine, so if you want to discuss it here, feel free, but don’t go crapping on the author.

OMG I love Michael Ian Black, but I do agree that joke was not funny (or even necessary, even if it wasn’t a rape joke it just isn’t very epic or remarkable and didn’t need to be said.) Rape jokes are pretty categorically not funny, though I am conflicted because I cracked up the first time I heard Sarah Silverman do that doctor joke he mentioned, followed by a twinge of ‘oh crap I’m a bad person’. That brand of comedy is tricky because nothing is off limits, but just joking about horrible things does not automatically make you funny or edgy or whatever and some people don’t seem to realize that.

(litte squee aside: for X-mas my boyfriend got us tickets to go see Stella in Seattle, and when we were having fish and chips before the show David Wain and Michael Showalter came in to have dinner. We didn’t want to bug them but are total dorks so we just giggled in the corner til they left. )

Since I’m 23 I haven’t had time to accumulate a big list of “Fuck Its”, but here are some dreams I had in high school that I’m pretty much over:

become an astrophysicist just because I am a girl who is smart enough and need to prove that girls are smart

live in a hippie van and drive across the country

live in a yurt

weigh 120 pounds

become a recording rock musican (wouldn’t mind this one, but seriously…)

marry Tom James (high school boyfriend)

I can’t think of any more right now, but can’t wait to read other people’s.

(That’s been my plan since I hit uni, just so I had a plan I could tell parents/older relatives/other people about when they asked what I was going to do after uni, so realising that has been quite a bit part of the past year for me. I COULD NOT BE LESS SUITED TO BEING A RESEARCH SCIENTIST. IJS.)

— Have children
— Attend a Catholic church (or any church, for that matter)
— Restrict what I eat
— Run a marathon
— Get cosmetic surgery
— Sky dive
— Be married
— Have my own house before 40
— Grow my hair long

Skydive.
Climb Mount Everest.
Cave Diving.
Seeing the pyramids in person. Or many other large cultural landmarks, too numerous to list here. (I have a list i’d like to see, but they skip many of the “must sees”.)
Play an instrument well.
Have kids.
Earn an advanced degree.
Fix my own car.
Develop a fashion style all my own.
Own a horse. (This was a hard dream to give up until I was really honest with myself that I just don’t really want a pony anymore. I still love them, though.)
Own a dog, for that matter. I figured out I’m a cat person.
Have a deep relationship with my parents.

I love this idea. Mine are partly R-rated, which I suppose is appropriate for a Fuck It List: shave my pubic hair; shave my legs when it’s winter and I’m wearing pants; stop loving butter; go back to the Church or otherwise “find God.”

I do not seem to be able to do this assignment. You name it, I’ll beat myself up for not being able to do it.

I find that with lots and lots and lots of things. I keep going to add things and then being like, “But maybe…?” I am loathe to rule anything out until I’ve realised IT WOULD MAKE ME MISERABLE. Everything else is up for grabs.

4. Be fluent in a second language. Seems anti-intellectual and provincial, but I have tried to learn another language many times and always failed to get beyond the advanced beginner stage.

See, I love languages (I really do), but unless a) you need them in everyday life, b) your career involves them, c) you know very well someone who speaks the one you’re interested in or d) you’re going to move to/spend a long time in the country that speaks it, I don’t see how/why you would get fluent in them, or why it’s a thing that you “should” be.

Like, if I lived in NYC I would probably learn Spanish and love it, because people were speaking Spanish round me (and occasionally to me until it became clear I had no clue what they were saying) all the time, and that was wonderful, and languagegeek me rejoiced! But in e.g. Glasgow, what the hell use is it that I can speak German? None, I tell you. It just makes me feel sad that it is slowly slipping away as I get further and further from when I was good.

So I don’t know that I would bother learning another one unless I was sure I would use it, and I don’t get there’s this theory that you should. I’d rather use my (limited) brain power for more useful things.

-Finish this exam HAHAHAHAHA JUST KIDDING
-Run a marathon. This has gotten higher on my fuck it list since moving to Chicago, where everyone and their mother does the marathon even though it’s so hot people DIE doing it.
-Switch to contacts
-Write a novel
-Wear stiletto/pointy heels

Can I push twitterfall here? It makes seeing tweets on specific things easier and puts less strain on twitter than their search http://twitterfall.com/fuckitlist Sorry for unprovoked ad, just wanted to share the shiny :p

I love this concept, I’m young yet to have a lot, but I’ve sure some will come to me.

Can I just say that I’m so glad other people have also said fuck it to learning foreign languages? Because I feel like such the ugly American, but I’m just not in situations where I can use them enough to be really fluent!

which I have sort of conflated with tangerina’s “be an astrophysicist to prove girls can” thing…I have occasional moments of insanity where I think, “but my dad has one, my husband is getting his, I don’t want to be less educated than my husband do I?” OH WAIT IT DOESN’T MATTER. I did the grad school thing, got the hell out with my master’s and was profoundly grateful to be done. When I get stung by the occasional “but I have to prove girls are smart” bug, I remind myself how painful my master’s was and move on.

- Become Internet-Famous (this really was a goal of mine at one point. How sad is that?)

– Start a band (aside from Piggy Moo, naturally)

– Have a 4.0 GPA (this was a goal of mine in middle school, I’ve had 4.0s in individual classes before, but seriously? I don’t care enough about grades to give up time on other cool things. I got a 3.85 last quarter. I’m suspecting a 3.25 – 3.6 this quarter. That’s more than fine by me)

– Go on a tour of all the Disney Theme Parks worldwide.

– Become really outstandingly skilled at singing.

– Get married in the temple/marry a nice Mormon boy/Find God

Fuck all of it. I’ve got more interesting stuff to get on with. My life, for instance.

- Learn Chinese, Japanese, Russian or some other ‘difficult’ language
– learn to become a pet person
– big fancy wedding w/ the pouffy dress
– impress people I went to high school with
– plan out menus for the week *so perfectly* so I never have to get last-minute takeout
– taking up running in any way, shape or form.
– find God/ “reconnect” to religion – This one is kind of the sweetest – it’s like, hey, actually, my life already *does* have meaning, just as it is!

* Care about proving that I somehow “earned” my achievements even though my parents have a lot of money and I got every advantage. I didn’t earn them. I can’t undo the fact that I didn’t earn them. Time to deal with it and move on to a matter located outside my navel.
* Learn to drive stick
* Be a single-digit clothing size
* Learn to enjoy travel in unfamiliar places.
* Feel bad about impossible and heartbreaking – yet harmless – crushes on inappropriate people.
* Get the approval of my husband’s colleagues. Okay, this isn’t really on my fuck it list but it should be; I actually want their approval very much and I think they can smell it. Sigh.
* Get the approval of the very devout.
* Parlay my Ph.D into a tenure-track academic career. (Prolly ain’t gonna happen at this point. I got an offer, but it turned out that it was more important to us to live somewhere we would love and would have family. Kinda wish I’d seen that coming, I could have skipped the Ph.D. Oh well.)
* Develop some kind of personal fashion style that makes me look approachably appealing, savvy, and intimidatingly badass, all at the same time.
* Become the kind of person who can keep a planner.
* Become the kind of person who enjoys spending a lot of time alone with her kids.
* Feel like I owe it to the world to have a career that’s incredibly impressive and can only be done by someone with freakish intelligence, when it wouldn’t be something I’d actually enjoy.
* Have a nicely-decorated house.
* Learn to work with chocolate couverture. I am a *fantastic* cook, and w/r/t pastry in particular I’ve made croissants from scratch, but chocolate is a finicky little fussbudget and has to be handled so exactly that I don’t find it to be worth the bother.

Fuck it:
– Backpack through Europe or do volunteer work in developing nations
– get a summer internship in an unfamiliar place with no one I know because passing up career-advancing opportunities to be with my boyfriend makes me a bad feminist.

I don’t have a feminist duty to make myself miserable, goddammit! Two years ago I turned down more prestigious undergraduate research programs than my own college’s because I wanted to spend the summer with my friends, and that wasn’t me letting feminism down, that was me knowing that the prestige and slightly higher stipends were not worth spending a whole summer lonely and unhappy!

Hey A Sarah, if you change your mind and do figure out a style that makes you look “approachably appealing, savvy, and intimidatingly badass, all at the same time,” please let me know because it sounds awesome. It also sounds like the persona I’m supposed to be projecting when I graduate soon (eep!) and am a real live doctor, so it would be nice if I could achieve it just by putting on the right clothes in the morning.

LadyGrey, lol, the best I ever managed was to dress the top half of my body as approaching and appealing and the bottom half as something approaching badass, while my face bore an expression that read “PLEASE PLEASE THINK THAT I AM SAVVY FOR I AM DESPERATE THAT YOU LIKE ME! Here’s my savvy face. Ready? Look!” *makes face*

Which isn’t really a good look for me.

Though I do have massive muscular calves, so if I had to dress one half of my body as badass, it made sense for it to be the lower half. Don’t mess with me! Do you see these calves? Mess with me and I’ll… I’ll… play field hockey at you!! Yeah, that’s right.

If you figure it out, please let me know. Because if it turns out to be possible, it might just come off the list.

– Go back into music. (It took me two years to break up with musicology, and I lied for the entire time that it was quite possible that I would go to grad school in musicology. I stopped saying that when it became obvious that it isn’t true.)

– Live in New York City. (My family has this theory that the only smart, fashionable, awesome people in the world all live in New York City. I know this isn’t true, because Kate Harding lives in Chicago. Also, New York, to me, is a nice place to visit, yadda yadda yadda.)

– Cave-diving/spelunking in general. (Hi, claustrophobia!)

– Waxing anything.

I know I’m going to have to compromise so many other things for my job later (I’ll have to wear pantyhose, heels, makeup, and skirts in court, and I’m only sort of OK with one of them [heels]), and I’m not sure if I want to give up on Gravity’s Rainbow or jogging yet, but . . . yeah.

Well, I’ve already completed Ph.D (last Aug) but I must say I approve of those who have it on their list–I should have listened a long time ago.

Spent 12 years getting the degree. Hated most of it. Can’t get a job with it and not planning on moving to do so anyways. I can say, the M.A. was wonderful and fulfilling but NO ONE should get a Ph.D. unless it is absolutely necessary for longterm happiness and person knows realities of job market and moving and is still thrilled. One of my mentors said there is a reason why 50% drop out because whole point of degree is to make you feel as miserable and phony as possible to see if you can stick it out. So, yeah, F* that–don’t spend years putting up with torture on purpose unless you have to!

So, my list:

becoming tenured professor in my field (yeah, not going to happen, I can tell, so that’s ok)

losing weight

wearing high heels

putting up with crap from men because I think it is necessary to be polite

apologizing to husband for asking for help with work about the house–it is BOTH of our jobs, for goodness sake so he should be doing this too!

reading certain big books of classics which I skipped despite being a Ph.D. in English–ok, there are certain authors which everyone else loves which I hated and avoided–so I am not doing them, EVER–I’m looking at you, J Joyce!

Stephanie, with my power as the holder of an M.A. in English Literature I hereby release you from any obligation you might feel to read (or finish reading) Gravity’s Rainbow. It’s not that good, and if you don’t love it, I definitely don’t think it’s worth the effort.

Ooh, another: worry that my personality doesn’t match my physical characteristics. The hell? And yet this was a serious worry of mine for so long. Like, I worried that I didn’t look like I could be cast as myself. That nobody would believe that I was an intense smart emotionally-transparent and endearingly-vulnerable free spirit, if I didn’t also have long dark hair, pale clear skin, long legs, a lean body, big eyes, and quirky glasses. And the aforementioned fashion sense, but that’s sort of a different matter.

Get organised. Be reliably, continually on time for everything. Be tidy at all times. Meet every deadline and never forget anything. Prioritise these things above my sanity, time with family, time with friends, and all the other wonderful qualities I have that I feel are somehow let down by these aspects of me. Refuse to accept them as just part of who I am and how my brain works.

Value others’ judgements of me (including grades and BMI) above my opinion of myself. Think it’s more important to work on the former than the latter. Think it’s important to work on the former at all.

Fillyjonk, I might be with you on this. I will say, though, that this year I’m doing one thing that was always on my “life dreams” list–living in Europe and traveling around a bit–and I’m discovering that I don’t really love it. I actually kind of like…staying at home. So there’s at least one thing on my fuckit list: I feel absolutely no need to play the game of collect-them-all with major European cities. I’m done with that.

Oooh, I like this exercise! I kind of know what you mean, FJ, about putting these things on the list veeeery reluctantly, but for me that’s all the more reason to do it.

Here’s what I can think of offhand:

– Get thin (duh)
– Get a Ph.D. (no offense, SM, but I just don’t want one badly enough to justify the effort)
– Have kids (I’m not a suitable parent, and the window on that is closing very quickly anyway)
– Become fluent in any foreign language other than Spanish (I’m not willing to cross Spanish off the list just yet, given how many Americans speak it)
– Learn to text (if you don’t tell me what to do with my thumbs, I won’t tell you what to do with yours)
– Become an executive muckety-muck (like that was ever going to happen)
– Join Facebook (hah! you can’t make me!)
– Marry George Clooney (why bother? he’d never be faithful anyway)
– Sign up with Twitter (since I am constitutionally incapable of limiting my insights to 150 characters about 90% of the time)

- Get a Ph.D. (no offense, SM, but I just don’t want one badly enough to justify the effort)

Hey, I’m not sure I do, either! ;-) Actually, I just had a great pep talk from my dad the other day, in which he reminded me what I said when I told him I wanted to get a PhD in the first place. It really helped remembering what 3-years-ago-Me wanted out of the whole process, even as Today-Me is banging her head against the wall/drinking cranberry vodkas and browsing Etsy/WAIT I MEAN WRITING MY EXAM I PROMISE

Here’s mine:
-Become a doctor (still trying to convince my mom that this isn’t going to happen)
-Be a “party person.” I’m a homebody, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
-Have my own blog. Just because everyone else has one doesn’t mean I have to.
-A Sarah already said this, but get down to a single-digit clothing size. For years this was my go-to new year’s resolution.
-Become a tidy/organized person.

I love this and have enjoyed reading the lists thus far. PhD does sound a bit lofty a goal for me too but here’s my list this late Tuesday evening:

F-ucket List. Before I die I feel absolutely NO need to:

1. Fulfill your deepest, darkest sexually undertoned patriarchal fantasies.
2. Have hair long enough to sit on.
3. Speak all the languages in the world (seriously, former goal. I do love to learn languages because they come easily when I have the time to speak them and because I always have this desire to know what people around me are talking about…links back to former desires to be an international spy!)
4. Be a spy.
5. Backpack through Europe
6. Listen to NPR and avoid pop culture because it will make me “cool”
7. Be everything to everyone all the time (or even just a lot of the time)

– learn to pull off that effortless thrift-store style that the hippie girls I fall in love with have mastered
– cultivate an appreciation of professional sports
– learn to drive (unless I move to the country)
– spend decadent amounts of money on luxury goods
– become organized enough to keep a datebook
– memorize geek arcana that I’m not really interested in to impress potential mates
– the heels! Seriously!

I’m still holding out hope for becoming a morning person despite increasing evidence, as I rack up the years in my twenties, that the sleeping-in every day thing wasn’t just a teenage phase.

-Be thin.
-Diet.
-Become a rabbi. (Yes, I spent 15 years telling everyone that was my plan. It’s not anymore. Ok…)
-Feel like a bigot for wanting to date (and if I do, marry) within my religion.
-Apologize for dating outside of my race.
-Be quiet.
-Calm down.
-Pretend to be any less of an intellectual than I am.
-Do any extreme sport.

– write a novel.
– keep in the closet about fat around ANYBODY.
– become fluent in French (as long as I understand the parking restriction signs in Montreal, I’m really set)
– get really good at sewing.
– relearn how to play the piano.
– wear jeans ever again.
– shave legs or pits. been going strong for 19 years, good lord, why would I start again now.
– shave my cooter. I know that road, it is painfully bumpy.
– worry about keeping the inside of my car clean.
– have any kind of seasoned cast iron anything. I can’t make it work.
– keep a whole house clean without help.
– get a Big Moves show off-off-Broadway. If it happens, great, but not stressing.
– get really into pilates.
– wear cheeky underwear. someone wrote about this on their blog, and I was like, yeah, my flat ass doesn’t like them either.

-Run up the stairs when there is a perfectly good escalator right there.
-Eat anything weird that I’m supposed to want to eat because it will be an experience when I really don’t want to eat it, dammit, because it’s really gross.

OTM, you just reminded me of one I got from you, actually: Stop eating restaurant bread I’m really enjoying because the real meal is coming and it would thus be a sin to fill up on bread. THIS IS WHY GOD INVENTED DOGGIE BAGS AND ALSO I LIKE BREAD. FUCK IT.

* Lose weight
* become faaaabulously wealthy
* meet all my heroes/crushes/online friends
* set up a self-sufficient geek commune
* travel around Australia in a caravan, taking photos and documenting the stories of odd little memorials in the middle of godsdamn nowhere
* be my mother’s perfect daughter
* own a small house on a big block somewhere in the country with chickens
* “get over” depression and be “normal”.

Oddly enough, while I know intellectually that all of these are highly unlikely, I can’t help regretting seeing them written down there in black and white, as a list of things I know I won’t be chasing. Particularly the last three.

I’m surprised to see that cave diving has made two lists already. I’ve ruled out confined water diving too: no caves or wreck penetration. I’m pretty sure I never want to do hypoxic gas mixtures either: I’ve seen people hauling four or five tanks of different mixes around, it doesn’t look fun. Open water forever.

Fuck trying to fix my busted shoulder to the point where it’s stable enough for handstands. It’s probably possible in theory, but 90 minutes of physical therapy a day is about 65 more than I’m willing to do. (Next time I go to a physiotherapist I am not letting them assign me 10 exercises with 30 reps each, twice a day, unless I’m trying to recover basic mobility.)

I’m giving up on thinking that one day I’ll like beer. Or enjoy socialising in any place where I have to raise my voice to be heard.

Hee. I still dream that someday I will do a chin-up. I should probably get over that fantasy.

What is on my list? Hmm.
— Stop eating white bread.
— Stop eating anything else, for any reason other than “I don’t like it” or “It will make me sick.”
— Buy tiny pants. I mean, for fuck’s sake.
— Variations on Tangerina’s astrophysicist thing: feel guilty about choosing a traditionally “woman’s” job. Feel guilty about choosing a job that “won’t really use my abilities”. Feel guilty about choosing a job that I want to do, period.

I did this as I was reading everyone else’s, so there are a lot of repeats… because y’all have awesome ideas.

lose weight
climb a mountain
be young and slutty…. I really wanted to be young and slutty, but it’s just not happening. Also, I will stop being young soon-ish, for certain values of young.
love rollercoasters
enjoy yogurt (“Eat it…. it makes your insides go… out.”)
wake up early to exercise
eat perfectly ethically according to whatever my food ethics are at any given time
work as a volunteer or for an NGO in third-world country (interfacings, I’m so glad you said this….it’s time for me to stop pretending this is something I would ever do)
wear uncomfortable shoes or pants
watch all those movies everyone else can’t believe i haven’t seen
give up watching TV and read instead
extreme sports, physical team-building exercises, trust falls, ropes courses, or anything remotely related. Hate that stuff.

Jessica, Meg, Fillyjonk and others: I just focused on the “no need” (or burning desire) part. I might still get a Ph.D. someday, though it’s highly unlikely. I might have more than one kid, though that depends on a bazillion variables, primary among them whether I ever have the first one. But now, unlike a few years ago, I don’t feel like I have to do those things if I want to live up to my potential/be maximally fulfilled/get this whole adulthood thing “right.” So they’re on the Fuck It List, at least for now.

work as a volunteer or for an NGO in third-world country (interfacings, I’m so glad you said this….it’s time for me to stop pretending this is something I would ever do

Oh god yes, I forgot to comment on this before. That one went on my Fuck It List a couple of years ago, when my bestie arranged to go work with orphans in Nepal for 6 weeks.

Me: Dude, that sounds AWESOME!
Her: Dude, I know! I’m so excited!
Me: It’s going to be amazing. I’m so jealous.
Her: Hey, why don’t you come with me? There’s still time. You’re not tied down right now. You could totally come!
Me: Wow, yes! I could totally go! That is true! Ha! How ’bout that? There’s really no reason for me not to go! Um, I just need to think about, um, what I’d do with the dogs?

I spent approximately another three minutes attempting to convince us both I really wanted to go before it hit me that quite honestly, I just didn’t want to. And even though it did sound amazing on several levels, and I knew she would love it — which she did — it also sounded downright awful to me on several other levels. (I’m a bit of a homebody; I need lots of alone time in order to act like a decent human being when I have to see other people; I’m not very good with kids.) But up until that moment, I’d thought of myself as the type of person who might just spontaneously decide to go to Nepal and work with orphans one day. Not so fucking much, as it turns out.

FJ, I laughed with recognition at this:
“I do not seem to be able to do this assignment. You name it, I’ll beat myself up for not being able to do it.”

But then I saw some really cool ones — thanks to those who came before me!

If I never do any of the following before I die, that will be okey dokey with me:
live in a yurt (for more than a weekend)
have a bmi less than 25 (for more than a weekend)
be a good housekeeper (for more than a weekend)
return to smoking in an attempt to look badass (for more than a weekend)
Wear shoes that hurt my feet within 2 minutes of wearing them (for more than a weekend)

1. Alter my weight in any way
2. Go to a tanning salon
3. Wearing high heels (nice to know I’m not the only one)
4. Become a CEO of a major company
5. Learn C++
6. Become religious (been there, done that)
7. Do any kind of strenuous exercise
8. Become that really outgoing social butterfly type

1. Have kids
2. Weigh 100 lbs (stunningly enough I didn’t let go of that one till my 30s)
3. Backpack anywhere
4. Go camping (ew, bugs)
5. Go sailing (ew, seasickness)
6. Cage dive with a great white shark (face your fears! aversion therapy! not much good to me if I literally die of terror)
7. Learn to ski (did anyone see Russell Brand’s bit about skiing? that’s me. if I’m going to risk life and limb can’t it at least be someplace warm?)
8. Climb Everest/perform any other similar feat of endurance (my husband calls people who do such things brave. me, I call them stupid.)
9. Be a proper feminist and stop being so damn vain (sorry, ain’t going to happen)
10 . Count calories – did it as a teenager, that way madness lies. Never again.

Thank you! My ass does not get tartar, therefore it does not require flossing.

Exactly! I never understood why women agonized over panty-lines to the point that they felt it necessary to let a flimsy piece of fabric chafe between their ass cheeks all day. Firstly, everyone knows that you probably wear underwear. Second, if you’re so worried about it, go commando or buy female boxer-briefs. If you’re worried about lines on your ass, move the lines to your thighs with more substantial underwear, for shit’s sake!

– getting a grad degree, especially a PhD (I caught that same prove-girls-are-smart-and-awesome bug when I was, like, 5.)
– traveling the world (I’m sure I’ll travel some, but when I was younger, I had envisioned week-long treks through whole countries several times every year – HA!)
– being completely physically independent
– reading the “classics”
– having a supermodel body
– cooking well, cooking often
– standing out from the crowd

Having kids. I just don’t have the urge, or the ovaries, frankly.
Waxing my upper lip. A razor hurts less.
Being graceful. Tripping over your own feet when you’re standing still is at least distinctive.
High heeled shoes. Yes, they’re pretty, but my feet like flats, and I need to be nice to my feet. See also, propensity for tripping over own feet.

This also reminds me, as so many things do, of a David Sedaris piece. When his brother, The Rooster, created the “Fuck It Bucket,” a bucket full of candy, because “Sometimes, you just have to say ‘Fuck it,’ and eat yourself some motherfucking candy.”

– Lose weight
– Get a tan
– Wear high heels and stockings
– Remove pubic hair
– Shave my legs and armpits when I’m not dating anyone
– Learn a martial art
– Ride a red motorcycle
– Get a Master’s degree
– Move out on my own before I feel I’m ready for it
– Get a driver’s licence
– Learn to like yoghurt
– Go jogging for exercise
– Re-learn the French I forgot
– Be famous
– Get drunk and party with people I don’t care about every weekend and call it ‘being social’

- Have a kid.
– Try recreational drugs.
– Get barfing drunk.
– Go to college. (I’d only be going to assuage the guilt I feel over being very smart and yet not college educated. Not worth it.)
– Watch pretentious arty films.
– Give a fuck about poetry.
– Learn to walk in heels.
– Visit countries with suspicious water supplies.
– Go camping/hiking/backpacking/similar outdoorsy bullshit.
– Own a dog.
– Make nice with my estranged family.
– Eat pretentious snotass food.
– Throw dinner parties.
– Travel lots.
– Go on a book tour.
– Talk to a publicist, ever again, ever.
– Live in an apartment.
– Live alone.
– Try to understand my in-laws.
– Go unmedicated just because it’s somehow better or more fulfilling or a sign of great strength or whatever to be “natural.” Naturally CRAZY, that is.
– Exercise because I “should.”
– Do shit that requires me to keep a regular getting up schedule.
– Do shit that requires me to care about teamwork.
– Have a “normal” job where I am told when to eat, piss, and rest by someone less intelligent and far less interesting than me.
– Get all buddy-buddy with my neighbors. “Hi, I’m Naamah, and I’ll be composting dead animals next door to you for the next 20 years. Crumpet?”

1. let my hair grow long again because it makes my face look prettier/thinner
2. skydive
3. feel guilty for drinking Coke.
4. compete with the (mostly male) egos at faculty meetings. I sometimes think that every meeting should begin with some sort of mantra, a la Monty Python – “Oh, you are all so mighty with your sparkling PhDs. Yea, though you be the smartest people in the whole wide world, here we must collaborate”. Or something.
5. engage in body bashing with other women
6. keep my mouth shut when I know I should say something.

-Read the entire western canon a la Clifton Fadiman, I still want to but now I will skip all of the boring ones i.e. Saul Bellow
-Pretend to like poetry and/or Shakespeare
-Feel bad for not going to social events that I did not know about a week in advance when I know my socially awkward ass needs a week to talk myself in to meeting new people.
-Waste time trying to convince people who don’t like me that I am awesome.
-Get out of bed more than 20 min before I have to be at work
-Stop procrastinating
-Change because I think I should instead of because I want to
-Ask other people to make me happy, be there for me, put my needs before theirs, or let them do the same to me.

As a person who thrives on ‘stuff to do’ lists, I love the very idea of a Fuck It list – gets the unwanted stuff out of the way so you can concentrate on what you do want to do. Anyway, mine includes:

– Be ‘normal’. This has a lot to do with my lifelong struggle to fit in socially – before I realized, quite recently, that I check quite a lot of boxes for Asperger’s, therefore probably am never going to be the effortlessly sociable person I’ve always been urged to try and be, and am better off learning to live with the person I actually am.
– Please my mother. She’s now deceased, and I’d long stopped trying to please her on the grounds that she wasn’t capable of being pleased. Probably by anyone, but especially by me.
– Learn to drive. Unless I absolutely had to, and in my current circumstances, I don’t.
– Be thin.
– Eat squid. My brother spent years trying to persuade me, and these days even he admits it’s not all that.
– Have children. At 40, my ovaries might be pickled by now anyway, but I’m not mother material for many reasons.
– Have an immaculate home. (‘Not damp’ and ‘can find shit’ are goals I’m aiming for.)
– Stop drinking coffee.
– Go to a school reunion. There are lots of people from those days I’d rather not see again.
– Wreak hideous revenge on numerous guys from my past…life’s too short and I think there is such a thing as karma.
– Pretend to like music I don’t really like, or vice versa.
– Be ‘realistic’ about the dozens of possibly unlikely things I do want to do with the rest of my life.
– Grow up.

– Wear makeup (unless on-stage or otherwise costuming)
— Wear high heels
— Like beer
— Be fabulously (or even moderately) wealthy
— Have an enormous house full of status symbols
— Become a Leader
— Become a Scientist (I like science conceptually, really, I do. But I’m not actually that good at it and have a tendency to feel vaguely guilty that I’m not a Girl who is a Scientist and a Leader like they told me I should be in 7th grade. I am a Girl who Enjoys Reading Picture Books to Small Children and is Excellent at Organizing Things and thus is Getting a Library Degree, thank you very much.)

I’m enjoying all the backpacking hate. I kind of love it, because I’ll never be able to afford to see all these places (Asia) any other way. But equally, there’s a LOT of tired/hungry/roasting/freezing/oh my god will you just FUCK OFF time in between the “ooohhhhh” moments.

feel guilty about choosing a traditionally “woman’s” job. Feel guilty about choosing a job that “won’t really use my abilities”. Feel guilty about choosing a job that I want to do, period.

I love how often this is coming up. I feel so much less alone?

Get drunk and party with people I don’t care about every weekend and call it ‘being social’

I love this. It is very true.

More of mine. I feel no need to:

-Get really good at anything if somewhere between beginners’ level and moderately good will make me very happy.
-Be perfect at anything ever again.
-Have a “healthy diet” as approved by judgemental middle-class white ladies, The Guardian, etc.
-Have an exercise routine.
-Do anything for any reason that doesn’t fall under:
1) I want to (and/or it will make me happy)
2) I think it’s the right thing to do
3) There will be real and quantifiable negative consequences for my life if I don’t.
-Ever watch a horror movie again
-Prove to anyone how smart I am. (This includes higher degrees and jobs.)
-Read anything by James Joyce, or anyone else who can’t fucking write, as defined by Me (I’m looking at you, Tolkien)
-Do heroin, cocaine, or anything else that isn’t weed. I would BE THOSE PEOPLE who try it once and then immediately get hooked and start robbing grannies, etc. I know I would.

Caitlin I LOVE this one: “Read anything by James Joyce, or anyone else who can’t fucking write, as defined by Me (I’m looking at you, Tolkien)”. Right up there with “read the classics” for me since anything that was force-fed to me as a student as “It is CLASSIC!” never failed to read like trash to me…I’m looking at you “Scarlet Letter” (Seriously, she sews for an entire tiny-print fucking chapter. She sews! For over 12 damnable pages!!! I mean I love sewing but I don’t need to read about every fooking stitch this woman made….gah…enough about that…)

I’m also adding to my own list:

Learn to mow the lawn. I don’t feel like a “bad feminist” because I feel NO urge to learn this “basic” “man” yard job.

1.) Join Twitter
2.) Climb a mountain of any kind
3.) Go Scuba Diving (my whole family does this, I could not be less interested.)
4.) Visit LA
5.) Visit pretty much any Asian or south asian country. It turns out there are some cultures I am just not interested in.
6.) Keep my house as clean as my parents think I should.
7.) Have a job where I travel a lot. It turns out, I actually like being home.

I think it is really interesting how things that are still on my to do list are on other people’s fuck it lists and probably vice versa.

-Be a “party person.” I’m a homebody, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

I like this one. I’m going to add that to mine, along with having a huge circle of close friends. I’m just not that kind of person. I’m very friendly, and I’m social, but I’m also really private, and I’ve never been nor will I ever be the type to have tons of friends, and that doesn’t make me a bad person.

I also like not wearing a thong. Wearing sexy underwear is totally now on my list.

Knitting through my entire yarn stash, and simplifying my life to the point where I don’t own anything I don’t truly use, need, or love, is also going on it. If I ever get to that point, it might be nice (or might be because the economy gets so bad I have no choice), but I don’t need to get rid of all of the “stuff” in order for my life to be meaningful.

Oh, and small and random, but beating Twilight Princess for the Wii. It’s not fun. I don’t care if I spent $50 on it: I am not wasting 30+ hours of my life on a video game unless I’m truly enjoying it.

I love this. It has taken me 24 hours but I have now come up with a few things.

-Get contacts. I will remain a fat woman in glasses.
-Make a big deal out of holidays unless I feel like it.
-Allow anyone to convince me my husband and I should buy each other gifts. Sometimes we do, sometimes we don’t but it is never a marker of our love for each other.
-Give up Diet Coke.

I’m fairly certain I’m going to be checking everyone’s responses throughout the day (when I probably shouldn’t be…)

On my list:
–Enjoying camping
–Being a social butterfly
–Getting “retrosyntheses”/enjoying total syntheses for their own sakes (This one is a peculiarity of my chosen profession – organic chemistry – but dammitall, I often feel like an outcast *among chemists* for not having this in my daily skill set.)

Number one on my list – all the things I should do as a proper lady: lose weight, be shiny and sparkly 24/7, be quiet and polite, do as I’m told, and as someone put it above, “be hot.” (I agree, I’m way funny and entertaining, so stop fooling around with stupid superficial shit)
this deserves it’s own – be ashamed of my body: it is what it is…a whole lot of soft but surprisingly strong
stop being afraid of heights or anything else that scares me.
drink beer
settle
put up with arrogant, stupid men
keep my mouth closed when i hear/see something wrong
impress people
put up with bitchy, salty attitudes just to make nice (we all have them, so that’s just when you keep yourself away from everyone as much as possible until it subsides- like kate said, alone time so you can deal with people)
believe that the USA is the BEST IN THE WHOLE WORLD – sure way to get me fired up is to say it is
feel bad that i don’t have a spotless car or living space

AND, just from reading everyone’s lists…i wish had done more when I was younger, like cave diving..it’s so fun, and volunteerism in other countries. Because now, i’m strapped down to responsiblities and bills, and doing dangerous things scare me because i now realize how fucked the healthcare system in this country is and that i could never pay my way out of an accident. (see how usa is not the best in the whole world)

I keep thinking about this and reading other people’s that I want to appropriate:

1) Volunteering in third world countries. (I like traveling to them, but my incredibly awkwardness at interacting with people I don’t know in general and people whose language I don’t speak in particular comes into play with volunteer work.)

2) Doing a homestay in a foreign country (see above).

3) Learning to like my incredibly annoying toolish co-worker because he “means well.”

4) Wearing only clothes brilliantly calculated to make me look taller and thinner.

-Diet, ever.
-Stop eating food I like because “Its bad for me”, if its tasty and its what I want to eat, and its not actually poison, it is NOT bad for me.
-Stop wearing my big stompy boots (I had someone the other day say they made me look like a butch lesbian. So what? Says I. I dont give a damn, theyre super comfy.)
-Remember to tidy up and wash dishes
-Have the perfect house and family in the countryside
-Ever live anywhere but a city
-Be organised
-Wear accessories
-Carry a clutch bag (If Ive got that little stuff that it can fit in one of those, I’ll just use the boyfriend’s pockets technique)
-Walk in heels over 2 inches gracefully
-Get manicures/pedicures/facials more than once in a blue moon
-Try to get a job thats “Better” than what I do now, I enjoy what I do now and I say fuck it to anyone who looks down on me for it.

My best friend is a professional athlete in an obscure ‘extreme’ sport, and for some crazy reason, I have all there other friends who are REALLY
_hardcore_
and I’m. just. not.
And for years I was worried that they all would think I was not cool enough.

I find it interesting how much overlap there is on everyone’s lists. Here’s mine:

— getting a Masters degree.
— becoming a doctor or lawyer.
— having children
— getting married
— making my family even remotely happy. (The only person’s opinion who even halfway mattered to me was my mom and she’s gone now. So….fuck it.)
— learning to drive
— becoming fluent in any language. (I’d still like to speak/read/understand passable Japanese and Spanish, though)
— actively trying to be thin/smaller on purpose (We don’t know what old age or disease brings, so…yeah.)

OH. OH. I forgot one of my big ones – be one of those people who show up EARLY for things. I like Mexican time (told to me by a Mexican professor when i visited guanajuato) It is rude to show up early, or late. Be ON time. That’s my goal.

And, to add to the comedian rage. Jimmy Fallon on his new show on Monday night. He managed to get in an abuse/fat joke all at once: “Oprah told Rihanna that like all abusers, Chris Brown will attack her again…And Oprah knows, because she’s been the victim of the Big Mac Attack.” Wow. Yeah, you suck.

- Being somebody’s bridesmaid. Fuck it. I’m flighty, and the reality is, I don’t have many girlfriends who I’m that particularly close with. I wouldn’t mind it, but seriously, I don’t know why I’ve cared so much for so goddamned long. I’m totally cool with just being invited to a few weddings to wish my friends good luck as long as there’s an open bar ;)

– Having a one night stand. Fuck that twisted “goal”.

– Not speaking up. Fuck that. I’ve worried far to much about what other people want or what they’ll think for far too long.

– Not eating whatever I goddamn want. Fuuuuuuck that. I’m not going to let having heard the “I get disgusted when I see fat people eating bad food” deter me from ordering what I really fucking want at a restaurant anymore. I treat my body well and I don’t have to order a salad at a restaurant if I don’t want to just to protect their precious prejudiced eyes or to prove that I’m “at least a fat person who’s trying” because I’m not “trying” anymore, I’m just treating my body well, as everyone should regardless of size. If someone’s bothered by it, that’s their problem.

– Becoming a morning person. Fuck that. Mornings blow and we all know it. I’m not going to change my temperament just because someone thinks I need to be at work at 7:30 in the morning and need to be “happy” about it without considerable amounts of caffeine.

i like my sleep, if i say up late i WILL be grumpy in the morning and thats not good for me or anyone. also i don’t want the hassle of trying to get home at stupid o clock in the morning, when to be honest i was only really staying to be polite and was bored stiff. if i’m bored, i’m leaving. you pouting and looking disappointed isn’t going to suddenly make me have a good time.

-Skydive
-Jump off of anything high for that matter.
-Learn to enjoy children (yours are not the exception)
-Care about celebrities/the royal family.
-Own a fur coat
-Say it nicer
-Smile on command
-Wear a miniskirt
-Take “that thing” off of my head because I was told to.
-Drink alcohol (at least I hope. I’m glued onto this wagon, dammit!)
-Lose weight in order to fit into a dress.

I am so saying Eff It to spending anymore time and money in search of clothing that give me the appearance of an hour glass shape or a small waist. I don’t have an hourglass shape. I have a barrel shape, regardless of my weight. I am tired of empire waist shirts that make me look slightly pregnant. I am tired of apologizing for my somewhat masculine shape. I am going to continue wearing my tank tops.

1.) Be really athletic. I’m clumsy and injury-prone, so it’s best if I just do things I enjoy.

2.) Become an early riser. As late as this week I’ve had plans to go to bed early and wake up early so I can exercise and shower and maybe even read in the morning before work, even though I really don’t like getting up before eight, and I really hate getting up before seven.

3.) Forcing myself to write a novel because I won’t be a real writer until I do.

4.) Going out every night or even every weekend. I like to go out on occasion, but I would be miserable if I was the oh-god-I-am-so-busy-I-can-squeeze-you-in-seven-Thursdays-from-now type.

5.) Forgive people who don’t deserve my forgiveness. I keep believing that I’m not “over” past traumas unless I can forgive people for what they’ve done. To hell with that. As Sophia (a la Golden Girls) says, “Forget I do plenty, I never forgive.” That will be my new outlook when it comes to douchehounds from the past.

6.) Become a person with a lot of stories about being drunk. I like drinking as much as the next person who does, but it’s not really that awesome to be drunk.

7.) Stop watching TV. I occasionally wring my hands about how much time I’m wasting, but honestly, when I feel like doing something else, I do it, so really, wtf time am I wasting?

8.) Weigh 125 pounds. The lowest I’ve ever weighed since I reached my full adult height was 150lbs and that was in the sixth grade before years out of control dieting and eating disorders. I’m never going to be thin, but that is okay.

9.) Wear heels.

10.) Be a person who meditates. While I do like to de-stress, I am not really that zen.

Cribbed from Caitlin:
Get organised. Be reliably, continually on time for everything. Be tidy at all times. Meet every deadline and never forget anything. Prioritise these things above my sanity, time with family, time with friends, and all the other wonderful qualities I have that I feel are somehow let down by these aspects of me. Refuse to accept them as just part of who I am and how my brain works.

Cribbed from Ostara:
Becoming a morning person. Fuck that. Mornings blow and we all know it. I’m not going to change my temperament just because someone thinks I need to be at work at 7:30 in the morning and need to be “happy” about it without considerable amounts of caffeine.

My own:
-Feeling the need to be original when someone else has already stated it perfectly ;-)

I say “fuck it” to
-feeling like a bad feminist for not caring much about a career and having kids at my age
-going to bars to socialize with people…or really, socializing with people in general if I don’t know them well
-being embarrassed that I want to move back to my hometown and live near my parents – I like my family, dammit!
-worrying that weightlifting will make me bulk up – the goal is strength, not skinny thighs!
-reading a lot of classics because they’re CLASSICS (I sympathize with many of you on this one)
-traveling the world (especially countries with dubious water supplies and languages I have no experience with – THANK YOU to everyone else who said this…it took your comments to realize I really feel the same way)
-learning to wear high heels or make-up

Wow, this is really cathartic. Just what I needed before going off to teach a bunch of squirrely freshmen who are all mentally on spring break already!

I’m loving the Tolkien hate, which may seem a little odd when you realize that Tolkien/LOTR (books and movies) is one of the few things that reliably make me really happy. (There are lots of things that make me happy, fortunately–but I’m talking *really* happy.) The reason I love the hate is that it made me realize, “Hey, just because something’s on someone else’s fuck-it list doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing *for me.* We could actually have…different lists!!” This may seem obvious from the very idea of the lists, but sadly, I still needed to have it drummed into my skull. Somehow I was still having the instinctive reaction of “Oh…all these people don’t ever want to do X…I guess that means X is lame and I shouldn’t want it either…” This wasn’t a conscious thought process, of course, but MAN is the desire to absorb others’ opinions hard to fight.

-Learn to drive
-Have a wonderfully successful career because everyone expects me to
-Weigh 110 pounds
-Visit Paris
-Hang-glide
-Go to an art exhibit
-Read all of “the classics,” even the ones boring enough to make me weep
-Drink beer
-Live in a city
-Learn to appreciate opera (stole this one from sumac)
-Care what my extended family thinks about my tattoos and/or piercings
-Raise my hypothetical future children the way people tell me I should
-Run a marathon
-Do push-ups (I don’t care if people think I’m a wimp because I can’t even do “girly” push-ups; I have a busted wrist, so fuck off)

(Am I the only person here who really loves camping and mountain climbing, and who wants a bunch of kids?)

Jenny1144, I’m with you on the Tolkien love. In fact, here’s another thing for my Fuck It list:

-Be ashamed about being a total sci-fi/fantasy geek

I love the diversity in these lists. Some of the items on other people’s lists (have children; go camping; live anywhere but in a city) are things that are important to me and make me happy. Like Jenny1144 says, we all have our own minds, our own likes and dislikes, and our own lives to live. And that’s awesome!

I got a little carried away writing my list. It’s long, but DAMN is it liberating:

Audition for another play, ever again. You know why? Because I’m not an actress, is why. Just because like 75% of my friends are in theater doesn’t mean I need to be.

Learn to like beer, tomatoes, or very spicy food.

Become a rock star, or get any better than I already am at the guitar.

Speak five languages fluently (I can half-assedly make myself understood in Spanish, and that’s pretty much good enough).

Get any more piercings only to have them reject, get infected, or just fail to heal. My body does not like having metal in it.

Sleep with anyone I’m not that hot for just because it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten laid.

Teach salsa. I don’t have to be the bestest at everything I do; I’m allowed to be an okay dancer who has fun.

Become an opera singer. Four years of lessons did nothing but make me f’ing unstoppable at karaoke.

Fix my mother’s relationship with my sister. It’s not my responsibility to be the peacemaker.

Go vegan. You can pry my milk out of my cold dead hands.

Get a degree in non-profit management. Hello, I’m 21 and I’m ALREADY managing a non-profit. I do not need to spend thousands of dollars on schoolin’.

Get really into yoga.

Become an expert music, film, or literary criticism. I’m happy just enjoying what I enjoy. I don’t need to be well-versed in the classics, nor do I need to be incredibly snobby about some obscure shit.

Backpack through Europe. Backpack anywhere, actually. Or do any kind of hike that takes longer than a few hours. Ditto bike riding. Go camping, except for once a year with my dad. Be even a little bit outdoorsy.

Become a teacher, because what else can you do with a degree in creative writing?

Settle down in one city, get married, raise kids.

Be a drag king. These titties are just NOT GOING ANYWHERE, and I will never ever ever subject myself to binding.

Have long pretty feminine hair.

Cook.

Be so ridiculously (conventionally) hot that every guy or girl who’s ever rejected me will never forgive themselves. I’ll settle for being ridiculously awesome, and not giving a damn what they think, instead.

Write a novel.

Wear bras and underwear that match. Never, ever, ever.

Feel guilty for not wanting to be a grown-up, or have a grown-up job, or a car, or a house, or do anything other than write poetry and travel.

Finish my grant proposal today instead of fucking around on the Internet.

1. Feel bad about dropping out of Peace Corps. (Sorry, America, I WASTED YOUR MONEYS!!)
2. Like to travel, esp. to 3rd world countries (see above).
3. Be zany, outgoing, or impulsive.
4. Ever be “done” with school.
5. Have kids.
6. Be earth-mother-outdoorsy.
7. Stop being awkward in social situations.
8. Diet.
9. Go to medical school.
10. Have style.
11. Be religiously observant.
12. Stop wandering from Big Idea to Big Idea.
13. Feel bad about wanting stability and a 9-5 job.
14. Get my shit together, esp in the form of a clean, tidy, pulled-together, matching home.
15. Like yoga.
16. Be a Runner. Run another marathon.
17. Do things just because I have the capability.
18. Stop telling cat stories.

When I turned 40, I realized that there were two things I NEVER had to do again: wear a dress or skirt, and be in anybody’s wedding. (Unless I want to, but I don’t HAVE to.) I finally got rid of all the burgundy satin monstrosities from past weddings (I look like hell in burgundy) and sighed a huge sigh of relief.

So I think that’s when I really started my “fuck it” list, which is a much pithier and more descriptive name than my “never have to do it again” list.

And I’d like to chime in on the perfect, decorated house with coordinated bric-a-brac piled just so to please the eye and and contrast and balance and phooey. I LIKE clutter. I feel so much more comfortable with all kinds of varied stuff around. Yes, the house is sanitary: I insist upon that. But neat? Forget it. Don’t care.

And the traveling…I want to travel some more, but I don’t want an adventure when I go on vacation. I want to relax and have fun and not have to worry if the water is safe to drink. A dear friend of mine takes trips like that all the time, and while I love listening to her stories, I always find myself adding on “…and thank god I wasn’t there.” The kind of travel I want to do she considers safe and boring. And that’s ok.

And if I get started in on the career thing I’m going to write another novel.

(And if you want the things I’ve said “the hell with”? I honestly hope they bring you the joy that they wouldn’t me. We don’t have to be the same, and I’m kind of glad we’re not.)

Haha, I’ve been doing something similar to this with my roommates. We call it, “The Fuckkit Bucket”. All it is is a poorly decorated coffee can that sits on our refrigerator. It also happens to be filled with candy. How it works, is whenever you feel like you’re being forced to do something you don’t really want to do, or you just don’t feel up to it that day, you walk over to the Fuckkit Bucket, say the magic words “FUCK IT” and eat delicious candy.

Hey, I am really amazed and fascinated – and comforted, in some odd way – to see so many people who, like me, have wrestled with the idea that if I don’t do the Absolute Most Impressive Thing Possible with my gifts as defined by the dominant culture, I’ll be letting down feminism or failing to prove that girls are smart.

I honestly didn’t know that was so common. Probably because many of the people I spend most of my time around currently aren’t even on board with feminism in the first place. So they don’t feel any sense of obligation to feminism, and aren’t in the habit of second-guessing their desires in order to see whether those desires are manufactured by the patriarchy.

Oh, and fuck going to clubs. Not that I ever liked it, but I always felt a bit like I was a prematurely middle-aged stick-in-the-mud for not enjoying pain in the eardrums, crap yet exorbitantly expensive lager, or being continually groped and elbowed by drunken arseholes.

I’m with you A Sarah in that I’m also comforted. I realize that even as a child, before I knew anything of feminism, I was bound and determined to be a math and science genius and get an advanced degree from some amazing breakthrough. I even went to an engineering college with a 4:1 man:woman ratio just to prove how smart I was… Until I said fuck it, started reading books for fun, and majored in a related but more fun (to me) science at a state school and eased up a bit.

In that spirit, I’d like to say fuck it to berating myself and considering myself a total failure for not personally proving the “it’s a man’s industry/school/profession” asses wrong. I’m leaving it to my physics loving sisters! I’m so tired of having a “but you’re a quitter” disclaimer flash in the back of my head every time I or someone else compliments my achievements.

My big ones, off the top of my head:
-Wear heels/dresses/skirts other “nice, feminine” clothes — it’ll never be my style
-Learn to drive (i’ve made it 8 years just fine and it’s time to give up the dream. driving, like skirts, will never be comfortable for me)
-Give up my house/job/pets/stable life and travel around the world for a year meeting fascinating people and Growing As A Person.
-Keep my living space “effortlessly” organized and tidy and cute.

Also, I’m not quite over the guilt of this one yet, but I’m trying hard to not let it get to me when people ask me why on earth I’d get a really awesomely respectably bachelor’s degree and then transfer to community college for a “technical thing”!

I’d happily (I think) have 3 or 4 more kids, but I think my husband would not be able to handle it. He definitely wants one more, and will consider having three, but he objects to our having more children than can fit in the backseat of a station wagon.

add one more to the “…stop feeling like I’m letting down the world by not using my Brainy Potential to its fullest” Similarly, I’m one of those math/science types who worked my rear off in high school to get into an engineering college, just to graduate and finally accept that, really, I don’t like research! Now I’m a mom, and a stay at home one at that, and I still fight the feeling that I’m bringing feminism back a mile for making a different choice.

I think most of mine are repeats, but fuck it, I’m just not going to…
-Watch the Star Wars movies
-Allow myself to be made to feel like a sissy for refusing to go camping
-Remove my nail polish properly instead of letting it chip off. What can I say, I’m a 90s girl at heart!
-Wear ‘normal’ colors of said nail polish. See above; black goes with everything, including businesswear.
-Feel like my job is not traditionally prestigious enough.
-Be thin.
-Read books I have no interest in because I apparently should.
-Be religious.
-Let bigoted behavior slide when religion is used as an excuse.
-Wear Spanx
-Break my Starbucks habit
-Go to grad school anytime in the next few years. I enjoy having some free time now that I don’t have an overgrown child (the ex) to take care of!
-Pick up guys. I. just. can’t.
-Apologize for sometimes spending money on frivolous stuff. I make decent money and it’s mine, and the bills get paid too.

Especially since there are plenty of hot shoes that aren’t deathtraps!’

This article spoke volumes to me today, (and though I’ve always been heels person, a recent increase in lack of tolerance for unnecessary pain has prompted me to go with flats more often than before) and I thought you and others who have heels on their Fuck It lists might enjoy it too.

What I’ve been thinking about, since I posted, is how the meaning of ‘aging gracefully’ has flipped end-over-end since my childhood: that where once it implied dignity and the acceptance of age, it now implies an exhausting and ultimately futile battle against age.

And yeah, I say fuck it. I’ve got better things to do before I die.

Fuck it to fashions and fads, too, including those intellectual, and FUCK IT TO BUCKET LISTS, because damn, what I want to do before I die is live and love and have a little fun and for that I don’t need no stinking lists.

Pretending to be straight
Faking orgasms
Pretending not to notice hot people when my husband is around (he’s a big boy, he can cope with me checking out someone’s ass)
Pretending to be any less motivated by sex than I am in general
Denying having done enough coke and speed to get an entire metropolitan area high as a teenager
Hiding my intelligence because pretty girls with brains make men uncomfortable
Wishing I was taller (fuck off men obsessed with models, I like being short)
Pretending I hate heels just to fit in (sorry everyone, I love them, they make my legs look great and I can walk all day in them, even run if I have to)
Apologising for being a woman with a hearty appetite
Trying to get along with my stepmother
Trying to please people who don’t want to be pleased. If they want to walk through life in a permanent state of pissy and judgemental, let them.

-Having TEH PERFECTEST WEDDING EVAR, because seriously? If I wind up married to the right person at the end of the day, it was a success.

-Finding TEH PERFECTEST WEDDING DRESS EVAR, because I already have a dress. Sure it’s purple, and it was my graduation dress, but it fits and I feel like a princess in it, so nyah. (Also, the fact that I can still wear my grad dress 9 years later? So totally confirms that this is where my body wants to be.)

-Losing weight for my wedding and being TEH MOST BEAUTIFULEST BRIDE EVAR, because I’ve always felt it was a silly thing to do. So much stress over the one day, and you’re deliberately adding to it? No thank you.

Given that I am also moving to Vienna, I will furthermore not complicate matters by doing any of the following:

-Worrying what to take with me, because I can always ask family to send me stuff I forgot should the need arise.

-Struggling to master the German language before I arrive to impress my new family, because really, I have the rest of my life to get the hang of it. Also, it’s adding unnecessary stress to my moving preperations. See above.

1. Pretending I enjoy rock shows. I like the music, but I don’t like having it loud enough to blow out my remaining ear drum and I don’t like crowds.
2. Camping. I’ll backpack for day trips, but come night fall I want a real bed and indoor plumbing.
3. High heels.

Great thread!
FUCK THE FOLLOWING:
1. getting wealthy. don’t really see it as a need.
2. in conjunction with 1, forgoing happiness, sanity, or personal morals for material gain
3. being the chick in the room that everybody wants to fuck. too much work, too much crazy, and ultimately probably more trouble than it’s worth.
4. giving up bubbles, sparkles, rolling down hills on sunny days, or otherwise taking on some affectation of “maturity” that excludes getting outsized portions of joy and laughter from the simple or inane things in life.

I has me moar to add ;) Also, thanks Kate for posting this. It’s interesting to read those of others and interesting to look that deeply inside and think, “really? I really wanted this?”

– Working to be considered “normal” by BMI standards. The last time I was able to do that I employed anorectic behaviors. I’m done with getting into that again. It’s not worth it to starve and torture myself just to be considered “normal” by that stupid chart in the doctor’s office and STILL think of my body in destructive terms.

– Creating for myself the “perfect look”. I always somehow feel like even though I have a lot of cute clothes, I don’t have THE perfect look for me. Screw that. I’m cute and I’m a lot of things that aren’t mutually exclusive. It makes sense that my wardrobe isn’t exclusive of any one style either.

– Worrying so damn much about my hair. I like that it can be so soft and flowy looking, but I’m done freaking out every other second over whether or not something is out of place.

-Feel bad for starting college later than almost all my peers–if I should go (look, if I’m going to get higher education, I at least want an IDEA of what the hell I’ll even be doing there, which I don’t, and I’d quickly lose motivation)
-Work anywhere with a dress code that uses the word “professional”
-Read books when I don’t want to/have to (for school or whatever)–which is currently 99% of the time, but subject to change
-Stop drinking soda
-Become a morning person (actually, I am a morning person–2 am is technically morning, right? XD)
-Lessen the amount of time I spend listening to music when I could be, say, going outside.
-Be self-conscious about the kinda sorta noticeable bald spot on the back of my head
-Dance to music I hate (try to get me to dance to Usher – Yeah! and you will be smote by my death ray eyes)
-Dance when I’m not comfortable doing so
-Eat more than I want to so people don’t think I’m thin because I diet myself into oblivion (incidentally I don’t really lose any more than about 3 lbs. during my bouts of less appetite. Gee, if a fast-metabolism’d person can’t lose weight that way, how is anyone else supposed to?)

And I 200th the people who have some variant of “Do x to prove that I’m a smart girl.” No.

Writing a novel would be one of mine too but, alas, I’m- a-clinging-on-to-that-one-for-dear-life-STILL-it-seems.

Sorry if I’m hijacking – but for those of us with the Writer-Monkey on our backs, have you read the Washington Post article about being A Secret Author Person? It was written by Laura Zigman, and asks quite an interesting question: are you still a ‘writer’ if your work doesn’t get published?

Or in my case, even just finished!?

I couldn’t find a link for it that didn’t infringe on copyright unfortunately.

NO ONE should get a Ph.D. unless it is absolutely necessary for longterm happiness and person knows realities of job market and moving and is still thrilled.

I completely support everyone’s decisions not to get a PhD, because it is in no way a requirement for living! This comment might have been a LITTLE extreme, though. ;-)

Take up Bikram Yoga.

Ha! Yes, no one has to do this. You might want to if you, you know, like it. Also, word to everyone who doesn’t want to do cave diving. I like you folks alive and well!

Okay, my list:
-Being a vegetarian, and feeling guilty for not being one.
-Apologizing for my health problems.
-Exercising regularly. Sometimes I will, sometimes I won’t, and I’m sick of feeling guilty over it. Same with being a runner, enjoying swimming (HA), and being willing to set foot inside a gym.
-Being a really good performing musician. Having fun is more than enough.
-Measuring up in tough, outdoorsiness to my tough, outdoorsy colleagues in geoscience. I can hike up a mountain if I have to and if I take it slowly, and I’ll probably even enjoy it, but I don’t have to be a fucking mountain goat to get my work done.
-Learning to be a really good coder. That’s what collaboration is for.
-Being a hardcore researcher at the expense of everything else. Okay, I gave up on that one a long time ago, but the pressure is still there.

I think I might still be a little young for this. Right now, I still want to try everything at least once, and learn everything and try every variety of food at least once and learn a million languages and…

One thing I know I will never feel the need to do though is pay the ‘new’ price for a piece of clothing. Charity shops and Salvation Army all the way.

* Be organized.
* Get a library science degree. (And this is so what I thought I’d be doing with my life, too. Until I spent enough time working in a library.)
* Get into academia. (Ditto.)
* Do anything, ever, just because I think it might impress my father.
* Learn to walk in spike heels that aren’t attached to boots. (I can do boots. I can do wedges. Anything else, I fall over.)
* Feel guilty for not wanting to hang out in my old coffee shop now that one of the countergirls has started bringing her uncontrollable first-grader in with her.
* Get contacts.
* Stop flirting harmlessly with unattainable people.
* Like Mexican food.
* Go on a week-long TV/caffeine/internet/refined sugar/fried food detox.
* Play the your-kink-is-okay-my-kink-makes-me-a-terrible-person game.
* Ditto weight.
* Feel bad about liking cats more than children.
* Socialize.

(I still want to be a redhead, though. Even though I have the kind of very dark hair that will probably turn orange and fall out if I try properly.)

I have probably lots of things, but the one that stands out most right now is this:

*Write the paper that would change my incomplete to a grade for the graduate course/program I dropped out of last year.

It’s just not worth the effort of having to re-read all the books, write it, and send it out. Not when I’ve only got one other course on my transcript. Not when I have no other plans for graduate education in that field (or any, for that matter). But so much of my identity is caught up in being the one who does well in school that it’s taken me over a year to let go of that.

I have a long list but I just wanted to comment on this. I completely agree! I hate how on some feminist sites I feel I need to apologize for being a super smart/intellectual woman who chose to go into teaching instead of astrophysics or whatever.

1. Be the thinnest one in the room
2. Work out every day (this goes along with having a flat stomach)
3. Wearing “outfits” everyday. I, too, enjoy jeans and t-shirts
4. Feel like I’m wasting my potential by working in a low-status job that I LOVE
5. Feel like I a failure because I’m choosing not to pursue acting professional (which leads to 6)
6. HOLLYWOOD
7. Skirting my bisexuality (aka “pretending to be straight”)
8. Feel guilty about not being vegan
9. Getting famous
10. Lurking
10.

learning to sew/making a big percentage of my wardrobe
not eating out
being the “hot one” in the room
clubbing
giving up sugar
trying to like beer, whisky.
trying to give up alcohol
playing as much video games as my boyfriend/several friends do. though this may get reevaluated when I’m not in school.

– learn to love asparagus or mushrooms
– sit through Wagner’s Ring Cycle
– get a drivers’ license
– travel anywhere that requires sleeping under a mosquito net or purifying my own water
– play organized sports
– own a scale
– own a little black dress
– read anything by Steinbeck, Hemmingway, or Faulkner again
– shave off any of my body hair again
– pay attention to anything Paris HIlton does for the rest of her life
– grow a garden (hard enough to do when one has the Anti-Green Thumb of Plant Death, anyway)
– Own anything pink

1. Give birth to eight children all at once.
2. Have children, period.
3. Get a PhD in something of complete irrelevance.
4. Go to Alaska.
5. Attempt getting into an Ivy League school.
6. Become a lawyer.
7. Prove to everyone that I am actually smarter than you.
8. Marry someone abusive.
9. Skip marriage all-together.
10. Attempt to speak Mandarin.
11. Sky-dive, or do anything that involves incredible heights.
12. Curse at my mom (for that I’ll just throw myself of the Empire State Building).
13. Stop asking irrelevant philosophical questions, especially when drunk.
14. Drink Moonshine.
15. Have a new found interest for literature with words I cannot understand (I’m talking about you, Sir Shakespeare).
16. Become a Republic.
17. Date a Republican.
18. Run in a marathon (I’d rather date a Republican).
19. Purchase a pair of those atrocious crocs.
20. Purchase a pair of Uggs (let’s be real, the fake ones are cuter).
21. Become a YouTube sensation.
22. Win American Idol.
23. Win America’s Next Top Model.
24. Do anything that involves backpacking or hiking.
25. Become vegan.
26. Live outside of the New York City metro area when I begin my career.
27. Take an Art or Music course.
28. Watch popular sci-fi movies.
29. Watch sports.
30. Own [or become CEO] of Walmart or any large, silly, un-ethical corporations.
31. Cover my body in tattoos or piercings.
32. Become a size anywhere below 10., so fuck you media that thinks beauty equals supermodel bod.
33. Like coffee.
34. Become part of a book club whose members consist of suburban rich women who have no jobs because their husbands makes enough money, hired nannies, and are sleeping with their pool boy.
35. Do hardcore drugs, no thank you.
36. Go camping, I’m not much of an ‘outdoorsy nature loving’ type of person because I do not like the bugs that live there.
37. Like beer.
38. Become a morning person.
39. Stop doing yoga.
40. Become a teacher, if I cannot stand my 10 siblings, what makes you think I’ll like yours?
41. Have amazingly beautiful natural fingernails. I bite them, get the fuck over it.
42. Give a damn about what people think or do or say.
43. Stop my habit of going to Starbucks to spend $5 on a venti chai.
44. Apologize for being a girly girl and being so ‘feminine’ or being a lipstick feminist.
45. Get breast implants, I have a hard enough time finding my exact bra size.
46. Get any sort of cosmetic surgery.
47. Learn ballet.
48. Apologize for being so opinionated and outspoken.
49. Work somewhere that requires an ugly work uniform.
50. Drink water from Mexico.

Some new fuck-its entered my life and made me very happy. I love this idea.

-Go to a gig for any band I wouldn’t absolutely KILL to see live. I don’t like gigs in and of themselves, and there are only about 8 acts in the world I would pay to see. I’m not wasting money on anyone else.
-Go to a music festival. See above, plus mud and horrible toilets.
-Write a novel. Be a writer at all, for god’s sake. I can write; that does not mean I want to, and that DOES NOT MEAN I HAVE TO. I realised this yesterday and felt SO FREEEEE.

This happened to me at camp for 3 months and it turns out? I NEED the internet, dvd boxsets and to be able to eat what I want when I want to REMAIN SANE. Much like junk food, the internet and tv are part of a healthy life for me. And the thought that I should “restrict” or “eliminate” them absolutely comes from the same societal mold as the one that says I should restrict or eliminate processed food, non-organic food, etc in pursuit of that holy grail, Ideal Health. So fuck it.